1.3: Ominous Winds
The third session of The Empress' New Fleet. Played in January 2016. The Party * Icaea Hoia, Human Factotum * Agernásson IV, High Elf Ranger * Trettos, Human Warlock * Gorn Le'Lyana, Human Ardent Journal Icaea wakes up in his room with a terrible headache and a nasty scar on his face. Dazed and confused, he walks down the stairs to the lobby where the others are discussing the situation. Ic: ”Okay, first of all, why is my face messed up?” Everyone points at Gorn. The party tells Icaea everything they know, and he shares his very limited perspective: When he went to the temple, the abbot lambasted him for disappearing and skipping work. He was also blamed for the disappearance of a healing wand, but Trettos had it at the moment, so they had no real proof. On his way back to the tavern, he suddenly got very woozy in the middle of the street and passed out in an alley. His next memory was waking up in bed this morning. He has no idea where the medallion came from, but he does recognize the stylized spiral pattern as Wavestrider's symbol. The party is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, but first they head to the guard station, their Bag of Holding dripping blood along the way. They get a few weird looks, but most passers-by seem to understand after realizing that they're a ragtag band of rugged men in full arms and armor. The station is located in front of the entrance to the main castle. They are greeted by two guards at the door who confirm that they've indeed been informed of a... sensitive delivery on the way. Tr: ”But surely there is a reward for delivering wanted criminals?” Guard 1, to his friend: ”Is there?” Tr: ”I rolled a natural 20 for Diplomacy, plus 14!” Guard 2: ”Yeah, I suppose, but...” Tr: ”500 silver, I reckon?” Guard 2: ”Sounds about ri-” Tr: ”Each?” Guard 1: *sigh* ”Take your money, leave the bodies and go!” The party insists on rolling Diplomacy for every other sentence for the rest of the session, with disturbingly high results at times. He literally dumps the bodies on the ground and the party heads to the temple. The Temple of Wavestrider is located in the cliff face below the castle, facing out to sea. A larger version of the medallion's symbol is displayed on the wall. The main hall is partially below sea level and water flows through holes in the walls, creating a very atmospheric series of waterfalls and pools. Ic: ”Under water level? But-” DM: ”Yes, I realize that. Magic pumps.” The party finds Abbot Polypos speaking with a lesser priest in the main room near the altar. Upon spotting Icaea, he stops talking and scowls a bit. Abbot: ”Oh yes, you. What is it?” Ic: ”We found this medallion with Wavestrider's symbol on it. Would you have any idea what it is?” Abbot: ”Yes, that is indeed our symbol, but I-” Priest: ”Oh, I recognize that! We make those for a local jewelry shop.” Ag: ”Really? Is there something special about them?” Priest: ”Well, I think so. Something to do with magic connections.” The party shares a meaningful glance. Ag: ”Do you make them here?” Priest: ”No, they're not exactly our primary product. I think it's some monastery in the countryside. They're sold right here in the city, though, at the Honeyed Soul! It's at the central market.” The party thanks the helpful priest and the less-than-helpful Abbot for their time and heads to the market, joking about the shop's cheesy name and wondering whether it's secretly a brothel. The Honeyed Soul turns out to be a pleasant family business at the edge of the market square, which is bustling with stalls and customers. As the party steps in through the door, they bump into a happy customer on her way out. A friendly old man smiles at them from behind the counter and speaks in a soft voice: Merchant: ”Welcome to the Honeyed Soul! How may I aid you today?” Tr: ”Hello, we were wondering whether you carry this specific sort of merchandise.” Merchant: ”Ah yes, a Heartlock! We do indeed sell those!” Ic: ”That name sounds... ominous.” Merchant: ”Oh, it is not! They are very popular as a gift among couples. They're sold in pairs, see, and the only way to open them is to bring them both together and say the magic word! Very romantic, you see?” Ic: ”So is there some way to... track the other medallion?” Merchant: ”Uh... Why do you ask? Are you going to buy anything?” Ag: ”Don't tell him anything! We can't spread this around too much.” Ic: ”We found this one-” Ag: ”Technically true.” Ic: ”- and want to return it to its rightful owner. It's clearly very important, right?” Merchant: ”Ah, how romantic! A man after my own heart! Well, you see, finding the other pair should be easy: just watch!” The merchant dangles the medallion in the air. After a few seconds, it stabilizes and stays pointing in the same direction, no matter how much the merchant moves his hand. Agernásson, a cartographer with a perfect sense of direction, deduces that direction to be southeast. Ag: ”Did you sell this particular piece? Would you happen to remember who bought it?” Merchant: ”I recognize and remember every piece of jewelry I've sold in my life! ...Well, almost at least. It was a foreign-looking elven couple a couple months back. I remember noticing that they paid in Princebank currency.” Agernásson recognizes Princebank as the biggest island and city of the Shatterstones, a major archipelago to the southeast. It also happens to be a colony of the Empire of Ceraris, Ufurca's main competitor, making it even more suspect. As the party leaves the shop, the sweet old man wishes them luck on their way. They follow the medallion all the way to port, but it refuses to turn, so they come to the logical conclusion. They march back to the guard station, where they just so happen to run into the Vice-Commander. He pulls them aside, but barely has time to open his mouth before Trettos explains the situation in five sentences shoved into five seconds. Tr: ”So to summarize, give us a ship and we'll be on our way!” VC: ”You believe the suspects are at the Shatterstones?” Ag: ”Yes!” The Vice-Commander drinks again and takes a second to gather his thoughts. From his demeanor, it is clear that he's had a rough day dealing with the repercussions of the Drydock Disaster: ”I didn't think too much of it, but a guard at the docks reported seeing a ship depart in that direction very early this morning, after a halfling hopped on board. In light of this, it was probably the same halfling you let slip earlier. I wouldn't mind getting you out of my hair, so... yes, I'll arrange for a ship.” Ic: ”It's personal at this point.” Tr: ”Excellent! Now we'll just need a crew, and some supplies, and-” VC: ”Calm down, I didn't mean I'd actually give you dolts a vessel. I'll arrange a ride on one. Just... wait at the docks, I'll take care of it. Somehow.” Go: ”Is it just me, or are ships becoming something of a theme?” The party complies. They consider going to a bar and starting a fight to pass the time, but decide against it. They later see a messenger deliver a letter and pouch of coins to one ship, the captain of which shouts at them over the railing: ”Hey, are you the ones I'm supposed to take on board?” The Marius is a smallish trading ship with only 15 crew members and two other passengers. The captain introduces himself as Merryll; the two other passengers are a young man named Lorry and a ”young” wood elf woman named Flann with short white hair (Agernásson gives an estimate of about 100 years – he himself is 62). The trip should take about two weeks, and other than admiring the turquoise waters of Emperor's Bay there isn't much to do (Icaea tries fishing, with little luck) so they have time to talk. Lorry's father – a Salmese nobleman – is paying for his travels: he is the second son, so he feels that he has no future back home and must find his own. Flann is looking to start a new life, too, but only because the rest of her band of merchants was killed by bandits. Trettos: ”Oh, I can be your new life.” The table snickers. Flann scoffs. Trettos: ”Uh... Gorn can be your new life?” A natural 20 is rolled. The table erupts in laughter. Gorn and Flann somehow end up sleeping together. Muscular Gorn sunbathing on the upper deck might have helped. Lorry seems rather jealous, but seems to get along with the others at least, Icaea in particular. Everything seems to be going well, until a sudden storm rises on the ninth evening of the trip. Captain Merryll reassures that weather is always a bit weird near the Shatterstones and that everything will be alright. Of course, in the middle of the night, the room to Gorn and Flann's room is kicked open by a fearsome sahuagin, brandishing a trident at them! It charges inside and strikes Gorn in the side, but Flann's first reaction is to grab a knitting needle from the table and shove it into the sahuagin's chest! It reels backwards in surprise, allowing Gorn to send it flying out the door with a devastating concussion blast. It collapses on the floor, bleeding, while all the other cabins are woken up by the explosive noise. As they see the sahuagin in the hallway, they take a moment to find their armor and weapons (except for Gorn, who'd take far too long to put on his full plate, but is decent enough to at least wear something). Apart from the storm raging outside, they hear a lot of noise from both the deck and the cargo hold. Without hesitation, Flann heads downstairs and tells the others to take care of the rest. They don't even think to protest. Lorry cowers in the corner of his cabin. It's quite a grim sight up there: two sailors already lie dying on the deck, while a few more are feebly resisting the half-dozen sahuagin. The party is just in time to see Merryll get decapitated by the sahuagins' apparent leader, a hulking beast at least eight feet tall, wielding four blades in four hands. They leap to action, each picking an enemy to focus on. Trettos uses his spiderwalk to quickly climb halfway up the nearest mast and fire at the biggest sahuagin, standing on the aftcastle. The noxious sludge emitted by his eldritch blast both assaults its senses and hinders its movements. After effortlessly dodging a crossbow bolt, Agernásson heads for the sahuagin responsible and buries an axe in its shoulder, but is intercepted by the four-armed "brute", spewing curses in a foreign language and twirling its weapons. Letting one of them hit his forearm allows Agernásson to evade the rest, which are slowed down noticeably by Trettos' blast. A hectic melee follows as Agernásson attempts to penetrate the storm of swords, the crossbowman trying and failing to hit anything at all. Icaea leaps onto the forecastle railing, but his spearblow aimed at a sahuagin is blocked by its trident. As a number of sailors stare in awe, the two engage in a long and dramatic duel, but seem very evenly matched. Their polearms keep clashing against each other to no effect. One would expect it to be over quickly: Icaea has the high ground, balancing on the railing, yet he underestimates the marine warrior's power. At one point another four-armed sahuagin (hiding in the mast) tries to leap at him from behind, but the blunt end of his spear strikes it in the stomach and it stumbles down to the main deck without him even noticing. Icaea's fateful duel against his newfound nemesis, punctuated by lightning over the horizon, is free to continue without interruption. Gorn, meanwhile, only even attempts a few blows before deciding these sahuagin are tougher than he imagined and that Flann might actually need some help. He dimension hops through the floor hatch, leaving behind a very confused enemy waiting for an attack that never came. It seems eerily quiet in the cargo hold, but as he runs down the stairs, the reason is apparent: one sahuagin has been nailed to the wall with a kitchen knife through its head, another's neck has been snapped and a third is lying on the floor with Flann currently in the process of choking it to death. Four sailors, two of whom are wounded, have taken shelter in the back of the hold. Flann stares at Gorn with an almost sheepish look on her face. The players put on appropriate music. Gorn finishes off the sahuagin and tells Flann to hurry upstairs after making sure the sailors are okay. She barely has time to respond before he dimension hops away again. Appropriate music off. Agernásson and Trettos team up to eventually defeat the four-armed brute without it landing another blow, despite its furious flailing. Icaea, meanwhile, is far from done. His nemesis uses its trident to sweep his legs from under him and drop him off the railing, right onto the second four-armed beast waiting on the floor below. It grabs him and leaves some nasty claw marks, but he manages to squirm free and hop upright just in time to dodge his nemesis jumping down. As the sahuagin tries to free its trident from the wooden floor, Icaea finally finds the Inspiration to pierce its heart in one clean thrust, completely in sync with a lightning strike in the background. As it slowly slumps to the deck, another nearby sahuagin can be heard screaming something that can only be assumed to be a dramatic ”no”. Gorn returns to knock a few wounded foes into the sea with concussion blasts. The remaining brute manages to grab Agernásson, but Icaea defies the odds of hitting his ally and successfully pierces the monster's arm, freeing the elf from its grasp. The brute is killed just in time for Flann to finally arrive, wielding two knives and wondering where all the sahuagin went. The battle for the'' Marius'' has been won! Most of the untrained and panicked crew was pretty much useless during the fight, but one managed to stand out: Peca ex Petria, a seemingly insignificant young man. Without fighting back or even trying to wield a weapon, he avoided every single blow through sheer luck and deft skill. The sahuagin attacking him managed to fumble and stumble on the slippery deck long enough for Gorn to toss it into the sea and Peca to survive unscathed. As it happens, Peca is the long-lost crown prince of the minuscule Kingdom of Petria, but of course, nobody is actually aware of his secret, nor the truth behind his amazing luck. To them, he remains completely unremarkable. The party has only a short moment to rejoice. As it turns out, half the crew has been killed in this sudden attack. To make things worse, lightning strikes the mast Trettos was still sitting in! Though he falls down the hatch with only mild injuries, the mast catches on fire and falls over. The surviving crew starts running around, trying to keep the fire in check, and the first mate takes the rudder, but it doesn't take long for a one-masted, half-crewed ship in a storm to run aground. Category:Lorelm Category:Kampanjat Category:Content Category:English